The Datura

It had been such a hard week...for well over a month. There just seemed to be no let up with all the pressure I'd been under lately. It wasn't only the job, but even relatives, the car, the neighborhood, so many aspects of my life were weighing heavily on me. I was concerned about too much going on at once and felt like I just needed a break from ev-er-y-thinnnggg.

A friend told me about the Datura plant several years ago. Shaman's of southwestern North America used the plant in preparation for, and during, their "trips" when they sought spiritual guidance for the tribe. It was the job of a Shaman to be the spiritual leader and so, multiple use episodes of Datura were a part of Native American culture. The dangerous difficulty with the Datura, despite its beauty, is when inhaled too deeply or too often, dementia can result; the little fume can rewire the human brain in short order; a person can experience irreversible damage and not come back. Ah, the travails of the life of a tribe's Shaman.

I knew the Datura was currently in bloom up in the hills behind the house. I got home about thirty minutes before the sun touched the horizon and decided to get out on a walk to try and clear my head.

The long, bell shaped bloom was easy to spot. The plant's white flower stands out against the dark floor of the forest. I passed several fine specimens, but I decided that I'd go top the hill while there was still just enough daylight available before I'd head back down to the house. The hike to the top had me notice an unusually cool breeze, sometimes gusting much stronger than is normal for this time of year. I hurried my gait to reach the top and there, right on the peak, growing out of a fractured limestone outcrop was a beautifully formed Datura bush supporting a single bloom. It was perfect and larger than any I'd seen. I approached to see it up close and before I stepped up on the rock, I noticed what looked like three long strands of white hair at the base of the bush. I looked closer and was amazed at what I saw. Well, I'm no historian, but it looked like the Comanche life knot; three strands, one straight with the other two crossed over and under it, intertwined forming a three dimensional "X". Comanche? The most fierce tribe of all? Here? A cold, uncomfortable shiver ran up my spine.

The Life Knot is a symbol of the Comanche; it has deep meaning to the tribe based on the context in which it is used. It can refer to the strength of life, in the right setting say, a birth in the Chief's family. It can refer to the weakness of death when an important member of the tribe is dying. It can be a source of encouragement to the tribe's warriors to fight fiercely in battle. The Comanche Life Knot is ubiquitous to the tribe; it's members knowing its meaning and application.

The wind became silent as I marveled for a moment, then carefully reached and picked the bloom. I examined its beauty; soft, elegant, sturdy though with overlapping petals. Then in preparation, I exhaled as I brought the open bell of this fine specimen toward my nose. Recalling cautions about the Datura, I slowly inhaled it's sweet fragrance. Such a rich scent; mmm, it was so good, it was difficult to stop. In fact, I'm sure my inhale was a much longer draw than I should have taken, and after a few long seconds of its aroma deep in my lungs, the alarm in the back of my head sounded loud, like a thunder clap. It shocked my eyes open, startling the bloom out of my hand. And it fell. I watched the flower as if it were in a slow motion freefall to the ground, a freefall that looked like it took "forever" to finally rest upon the ground. That should have been my first clue. Why did that flower take so long to hit the ground. Why would it's fall seem to take so long? Ha, why was I even asking myself the question? And the moment the bloom settled softly on a bed of spruce needles, an unannounced blast of cold air stung my face and unbalanced my stance upon the rock. The wind began to whip as it crazily disheveled my hair and pulled the open shirttails around my back almost in mock straightjacket style. And I heard, this was crazy, what I thought was a war cry deep in the valley below. It had to be the sound of wind; just had to be.

The bright part of the sky during this sunset took on a queer purplish-green tone that was fading fast. That wind again, slapped my cheeks in a one-two punch that seemed too strong, too focused, to be wind. So with purpose, I started back down the hill, my eyes constantly adjusting, but I was less and less able to keep pace with the swiftly fading light. I kept looking about around me as an unfounded bit of paranoia set in. I made it back to the house and quickly closed the open windows from the gusty wind.

I was tired. I was beat. I'd finally had enough and was going to sleep. I could feel my energy dipping so I stripped on the way to the bedroom and just kind of flailed onto the queensize, not caring which direction I pointed. I simply knew that as I lay there on my back, arms flung out to the sides, a strangeness seemed to envelope me. The last hint of light in the sky disappeared and the room's darkness became incredibly black, a thick black I would say, as I was pulled to sleep.

What happens during sleep? We all know the oddities of dreams and nightmares, and inexplicable sights and feelings. Perhaps they're the voice of the subconscious, perhaps a glimpse or a precursor, to a future reality. Some suggest that a journey of the spirit takes place through an altered dimension of space and time. But when an occurrence seems so very real, so joyful or even so fearful, the episode impacts deeply into a person's psyche. Maybe it is real. So much so, questions of reality, insanity, one's inner being, even one's sexuality, may arise.

I'm really unsure of why I share this with you; there's no certain reason for me to do so. But, I've gone this far...

Well, what happened that night still shakes my core. At some point during the night, I woke up. There was an eeriness, a feeling, an ambience as if a being was nearby. Such a weird feeling like someone else was present, or even as if, I was ...unpresent. I can't even understand it; so weird, it still freaks me. And even just talking about it causes a really nervous feeling, right now. Well, it was like I wasn't alone or, not completely alone. Then, it appeared.

A figure, barely visible, feint-like, was somehow made visible to me. It reminded me of the shape of a woman or, at least, a persona as if that of a female. "She" was oddly like, can you believe, like that of a Native American woman. It came closer and as it did, I could see it's, well, her, face, and her form. My heavens, as strange and weird as this was, I could see she was beautiful. I mean beyond beautiful, I was amazed. I was still like, whaaa, when it happened; she came after me, on the bed. I couldn't believe it, and I couldn't do anything, because I couldn't move. This was the craziest thing; I didn't know if I was dreaming or what. I tried to resist, and I couldn't. I couldn't fucking move!

She, it, what the hell, she was on me in a flash. Her visible, yet invisible form took me over. Her ghostly hands began to touch me, and her eyes looked deeply into mine. I tried, but I couldn't look away. The feeling was as if I was swept into her being, like her gaze and touch controlled me. I, certainly, had no control.

She went for my dick. Stroking, looking, as if by her stare she could make it erect. This was the most eerily beautiful being I've ever... what? I've never seen anything like this, a being who is see-through. Crazy! She kept looking back and forth, at my face, then at my, well, you know, down there. The stroking sensation grew. What seemed like minute after minute of her constant movement on my privates, minute after minute of searching my face and eyes, the sensations continued to feel wonderful. I clearly had drifted from concern of danger, to enjoying the floating feeling which enveloped me.

I'm sure my mouth was dry from breathing with it in open amazement. She, it, whatever, with her face...down there...looked at me with the most sensual, seductive eyes. Her beauty and the feeling she gave me, were so out-of-this-world. I'd never been made to feel so wonderful ever in my life. Things were building down below and feeling so good I could hardly keep my wits about me. It felt like pleasure I've never felt before.

Suddenly everything changed. Like a horror, teeth showed, suddenly...large teeth. She became a hideous being in an instant. She grabbed my cock in her jaws and suddenly bit down. Oh the pain that shot through my body! She raised up on the bed like some monster. She threw her head up and back, wagging her head back and forth, wildly, with what looked like my dick, in her jaws, side to side like a shark shakes a seal to kill it. Then eat it. I was mortified, horrified beyond belief, but she kept up. I was in a state of utter shock and fear, helpless beneath her wild animalism. I tried to put my hands up, but there was nothing to grab. The attack went on for I don't know how long, but it was awful. And I couldn't stop her. And I thought I would die.

I don't know how, but I thought I caught a break; she stopped waging war on my detached member and lowered her head back to my crotch. Suddenly, with her head down around my groin, my member looked intact. What an incredible ride this was becoming. And the hideous Indian she-monster disappeared, changing back into the mystical beauty I first saw.

Next, she straddled me. While she sat on me, fully, I could still see my penis, and everything now looked fine; she started groovin'. She slid her pussy along the length of my cock; just sliding, sliding along. Mmmm, what a slide it was. So hot, so wet. She slid along the length of my cock. With whatever spell I was under, she controlled my libido, ridiculously strong, at this point. Her pussy lips, wet and slick, formed around the contours of my member. The whole scene became slippery.

She moved her hips, gyrating rhythms on my cock. It was such a sweet grind. Boldly, I reached for her breasts. I could feel them! Nice, wow. Her nipples became so hard. She rode me and rode me, what an incredible feeling. Ohhh. She touched my head when she slid back. Pushed it with two fingers. Oh, the pleasure. I was out of my senses. She continued to ride it and ride it good.

I'm not sure if I ejaculated. It all was so unexpected and, incredibly, over just that quick. She was suddenly gone. I crained my head up off the bed and looked around the room. I could not believe what had just happened and I must have passed out.

When I awoke, it was two days later. A beautiful sunrise, like I'd never seen a sunrise before, softly crept in on me. It was incredible. I was weak and hungry, and thirsty. As I rolled to get out of the bed, I noticed something on my pillow; several strands of long, white hair. I shook; this was scary. I looked more closely. Three strands, one straight, two interleaved in front and behind, forming a three-dimensional "X". I was looking at the Comanche life knot, on my pillow.

Never again, never fucking ever again, will I seek the fragrance of....

The Datura.